


After Care

by peet4paint



Category: Glee
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, F/M, First Time, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-25
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peet4paint/pseuds/peet4paint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puck's getting desperate.  He's never waited this long for sex.  But Lauren's holding out on him.  No sex with her until he earns it, no sex with other chicks...what's a guy to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Care

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely May, who showed me some very inspiring pictures.
> 
> Unbeta'd

Puck’s been good, damnit. He’s waited and waited and frickin waited with nothing but his own right hand for months.

But being in New York—being a stone’s throw away from as many sex shops and strip joints and nightly viewings of “Rocky Horror Picture Show” as he can shake a stick at—makes it all, suddenly, too much.

“Just let me buy a skin mag. That’s all I’m asking. One of those really raunchy ones, that doesn’t even show the chicks’ faces.” Puck’s kneeling on the floor of the hotel room, looking up at Lauren hopefully.

“Can it Puckerman,” she says, and there goes that hope. “You knew my policy getting into this. No sex with me until you prove yourself, and no looking at other naked women, no matter what media.”

“So that means the gentlemen’s club is out, then,” Puck says, with a sigh. “Fine—fuck. Can’t I at least read one of my Ma’s romance novels?”

“If you no longer want me as a girlfriend, go ahead,” Lauren says, arms crossed in front of her. Then she seems to calm down a little. “Sorry, Noah, but you _know_ this. I don’t want you comparing me with any of those twigs that popular culture call sexy.” She runs a hand through his ‘hawk. “You’re doing so good. Do you really want to turn away from this now for a little sexual gratification?”

Puck leans into her touch. “No,” he says, almost hypnotized. Then he snaps out of it, “But you can’t expect me to go without anything forever, woman,” he says, standing up, brushing her hands off.

“I never said you had to go completely without, Noah,” Lauren says, looking at him critically. “I said nothing with other women.”

“So, what,” Puck says, hope suddenly rearing back up, “pre-teen girls?” He thinks about that for a second, thinks about Sarah. “Wait—I’m not okay with that.”

“Think, Puckerman. With your brain. When I say no chicks allowed, what comes to mind?” Lauren says.

“Dogs,” Puck says. “Actually _still_ not okay with it.”

“Well you got the first letter right,” Lauren says with a sigh. “I’m talking about _dudes_ Puckerman.”

“Wait—like I can watch dudes in pornos but cover my eyes whenever the chicks come on the screen?” Puck asks.

“No. Like, you can get it on with another dude. I figure there’s no way you’ll be thinking of another dude the first time we have sex with each other—I’m all woman—so go nuts.” Lauren raises a finger. “Just one thing first. You always use protection. And never get caught at it. I don’t want to be known as Lima High’s fag hag.”

“So, I can do another dude? Seriously?” Puck says, grabbing Lauren’s hand.

“Yes. Seriously. Just no chicks involved,” Lauren says, giving his hand a squeeze.

Puck gives her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” he says as he walks out the door.

“Actually, kind of did,” he hears as he walks down the hall to the boys’ room.

+++

Puck steps into the boys’ room. And there, sitting right there on the bed, is Finn. First one’s the charm, right?

He grabs Finn by the hair, closes his eyes, picturing finally getting into Lauren’s pants and lays one on him, all Puckerman style. There’s biting and tongues and—

And suddenly Finn’s pushing him away. “What the fuck, dude?”

Puck opens his eyes—looks at him for a second. “Shut up. I can’t picture you with boobs when you’re talking.” He closes his eyes and goes back in again.

“Seriously,” Finn says, knocking him onto the ground. “Not okay, dude. I don’t get it. Has the pressure from Nationals finally hit. Are you, like, cracked or something?”

Puck thinks about telling Finn just how _not_ cracked he is, but just then the door opens.

“Boys, practice downstairs in ten minutes,” Kurt says. He wrinkles his nose. “Did something die in here? It smells like something died in here.”

And Kurt…Kurt won’t be all squeamish like Finn. Kurt digs dudes. Puck lunges—gets a hand around the back of Kurt’s neck and leans in, all romantic, like the first time he kissed Lauren. He takes a solid minute just to get the dude’s mouth open, and then he’s sliding in all slick and stealthy.

Kurt moans. Then he steps back and slaps Puck across the face—hard.

“What is this? Tease the gay boy?” Kurt asks hands on his hips.

“Nah,” Puck says. “I just wanted some sex, man.”

“I have a boyfriend, Puckerman,” Kurt says.

“What? Who?” Puck asks.

“Oh my god—I have a boyfriend,” Kurt says.

“Blaine,” Finn says from the bed.

“Wait, who’s that?” Puck asks.

“Blaine’s going to kill me,” Kurt says, putting a hand over his mouth and looking kind of sick to his stomach.

“You know, that kid from Dalton,” Finn says.

“Wait. The pipsqueak?” Puck says, turning to send an incredulous look to Kurt. “You’re seriously dating that kid? Isn’t that illegal or something? The kid’s, what? In kindergarten?”

Kurt’s face turns bright red. “He _is NOT_! Blaine’s a perfectly average height for our age range.”

“Yeah, if you’re a midget,” Puck says, chuckling.

Kurt’s eyes go completely cold and he tackles Puck to the floor.

“Mercy!” Puck cries, almost tearing up from laughter. “Mercy!”

+++

Puck’s no closer to getting laid two hours later, after an extended rehearsal for Nationals. Sadly his body didn’t seem to get it. Ever since Lauren had given him permission to get some on the side, he’s been on a friggin’ hair trigger, getting hard every time he catches Mike doing one of his insane dance moves, or Artie hits one of those deep bass notes, or frickin’ Shuester starts telling them how good they all are.

Talk about a kink you never want to know about yourself.

“So, tomorrow,” Finn says, pulling him aside as Rachel finally deems them good enough to place at Nationals, “we’re going dirt-biking. Just you, me, Mike and Sam. Seriously dude, you need to let off some steam. I don’t want you blowing Nationals for us just because you’re nervous or something.”

Puck thinks about explaining, but then he remembers that Finn’s really kind of stupid. And he kinda wonders if Lauren even wants him to explain to anybody at all.

Eventually he just sighs—says, “Okay, fine. Sounds good. Tomorrow.”

Finn sketches him a wave goodbye and heads off.

Puck turns around to go back to the room, only when he does, Sam is right there. Like maybe a foot away from him, if that.

And Puck—he can resist a lot, but if he’s been given permission, well, hell, he’s hitting that. Seriously, who actually has a mouth like that?

“So, Finn said you had some kind of break-down before,” Sam says, giving him a weird look. “Something about how he never wanted to know how you kissed.” Sam raises an eyebrow.

Puck smirks. “How about you? Ever wonder…” He waggles his eyebrows, running a finger across Sam’s chest.

“I’m not gay, Puck,” Sam says, giving him a weird look.

Puck’s smirk turns into more of a grimace. “Yeah, all right,” he says, pulling his hand back to his side. He’s about to turn away, when Sam’s hand lands on his arm, holding him in place.

“I’m not gay,” he repeats himself. “But, I went to an all-boys’ school. After a while, you get used to just—getting by. If you know what I mean…”

“Uh—“ Puck says, without a clue.

“Kind of like when you were a kid. You played cowboys and Indians, right? And none of you were actually Indians…” Sam makes a frustrated gesture. “You get what I’m saying right.”

“Dude, I don’t care if I have to get it on with an Indian or a Philippino or frickin’ Al Gore. I would get it on with a Nazi if they were up for it now,” Puck says.

Sam sighs a little. “Obviously not. What I’m saying is, when you go to an all-boys’ school you pretend. You find a guy who’s willing—maybe a little more girly looking—and you pretend you’re getting with a chick.”

“Well—yeah. I figured. I mean, that’s what I was trying to do with Finn,” Puck says, running a hand through his ‘hawk.

“So, I’m willing to help you out,” Sam says.

“Yes!” Puck says, throwing up victory arms.

“But, I’m not being the chick,” Sam continues, like he’d never stopped.

“But, if you’re not being the chick, and I’m not being the chick…who’s gonna be the chick?” Puck asks.

Sam raises his eyebrow.

“Crap. I’m the chick, right?” Puck says.

A smile spreads across Sam’s face. For such a nice guy it looks surprisingly dirty.

+++

When they get back to the guys’ room, it’s fast work to get rid of everyone. “Didn’t you hear?” he says. “Kim Kardashian is signing autographs in Bryant Park.”

The guys are gone so fast they don’t even leave dust in their wake.

“Puck, Bryant Park is on the other side of New York City,” Sam says. “At this time of day, it’ll take them over an hour to get there.” He thinks about it for a second then a smile spreads across his face. “Puck, you’re one devious guy.”

“I know,” Puck says, winking at Sam.

Sam grins at him. “I like it.”

Puck quirks an eyebrow. “How much do you like it?” he asks.

Then Sam’s putting a hand over his eyes, leaning into him a little. After a minute or so, Sam’s hand is gone. Puck makes to open his eyes, but Sam says, “Keep ‘em closed,” so he does.

After another minute _something_ falls over his eyes. It’s not a hand this time—obviously fabric of some kind instead.

“Can you see?” Sam asks.

And no, Puck can’t see a damned thing. He shakes his head.

“Good,” Sam says, and then there’s a mouth kissing him. It’s wet—wet and dirty. All sucking lips and darting tongues and biting—whoa, the biting.

And then gravity takes a hold of Puck. He ends up sprawled out, half-on half-off a bed. “A little help here?” he says.

He gets help, but not in the way he was asking for. There are hands on him, tugging clothes out of the way—caressing the bare skin left in their wake.

A hand pinches his nipple ring. It’s overwhelming. Yeah, he’s played with it himself, but he hasn’t been touched by anyone else for months now. He’s used to his nipples being kind of sensitive, but now, it’s just this side of painful.

Fingers twist the ring—twist his nipple—and it’s too much. He winces—can’t hold it back. “Hey, want me to stop?” Sam asks, loosening his hold. Puck reaches blindly until he finds Sam’s hand. He clutches, hard, and after a minute Sam’s fingers tighten of their own accord. “Yeah?” Sam asks.

Puck grunts out a ‘yeah.’ Then he’s lost in it, the wave of pain and pleasure bringing him higher and higher.

He feels wetness on his nipple. It takes a second, but then he realizes Sam’s sucking on him. Tonguing around and around the nipple ring until he’s ready to scream from it all. It’s then that his other nipple starts to feel sensitive. Like it knows it’s missing out on the action and wants in.

It’s funny, ‘cause Puck would swear he didn’t say any of that out loud, but a second later his untouched nipple is being pinched—hard—between a thumb and finger. He arches off the bed with it, almost shocked by the sensation.

“That’s right,” Sam says. “Look at you, writhing so pretty for me. I bet you’re wet. Are you? If I put my hand in your pants would you be all wet for me.”

And Puck—Puck’s said those very same words before. To Quinn—to Santana. To his cougars. He moans anyway, to hear them again. Wonders if Sam’s gonna feel around his ass, think Puck took the time to prepare himself there or something. Wonders if Sam thinks he’s done this before.

But when Sam’s hand moves down, it’s not to Puck’s ass, it’s to his cock. He thumbs the tip, rubbing back—forth—back—forth, until Puck’s spurting precome all over the place. “Oh, yeah. You’re wet for me.” He rubs the head again, and Puck’s spurting a little more precome. Sam groans. “Look at you spurting all over for me. Bet you taste so good.”

Sam’s hands are pushing Puck more firmly on the bed then, until just his feet are hanging off. And then, between one breath and the next, a mouth is closing over his cock.

It’s wet—wet and hot. And Puck’s not sure if it’s because he hasn’t had this for such a long time, or it’s because Sam’s really that good, but Puck’s ready to go off in maybe a minute. His hand closes over Sam’s head, tugging on his hair. He shouts out, “Fuck!” and then he’s coming thick long spurts in the wet, wet heat of Sam’s mouth.

The blindfold comes off then. It takes Puck a couple minutes to come back to himself enough to remember he can actually see. When he looks around him, the first thing he sees is Sam’s face, mouth in a crooked grin. “Ready for my turn?” he asks. And when Puck really looks at him, it’s pretty clear that the guy really needs to get off.

So Puck flops over onto his belly and says, “Be my guest.”

“Nice,” Sam says, and Puck can’t really tell if he’s being sarcastic or sincere. But he’s just had a great orgasm, he doesn’t really care enough to try and find out.

Sam tugs Puck’s pants the rest of the way off, and then he’s off the bed. He comes back a minute later and his hands go straight to Puck’s ass. They stall a little when they get there, though. “Look, I know you’re not gay,” Sam says. “If you don’t want to do this, no pressure.”

Puck wriggles back then, more firmly into Sam’s grip. “Whatever, dude. You can suck cock, I can take cock up my ass.”

“If you’re sure,” Sam says, and then the fingers are moving with intent, going for Puck’s hole and circling a second before one of them slips a little inside. It makes Puck shiver—feels _good_ in a way he didn’t expect. “You like that, huh?” Sam says. “Bet you’ll like this even more.”

And then—and then there’s something wet at his hole. Puck thinks it’s a finger at first—a finger covered in lube. But after a minute the wriggling and writhing take on a familiar feeling. The same feeling he felt before in his mouth and on his nipple and—and on his cock. “Oh—oh christ,” Puck spits out into the pillow. “Are—is that your tongue?”

The wetness is gone—leaving the feeling of cold air in its wake. “Yeah,” Sam says. And then the wriggling wetness is back. It’s hard for Puck to concentrate on it. He can’t tell how deep it’s going or how long it’s lasting or—well anything really other than how _good_ it is. It feels like—it feels like heat expanding throughout him, not just where the tongue is, but all over. So—so he feels the heat in his fingers as they clutch the sheets hard enough to tear them off the bed. Feels it in his elbow, bracing himself into a half-arch. Feels it in his ankle that keeps flexing and flexing and flexing with it.

And then the tongue is gone. “Please,” Puck says. He wants to say _don’t stop_ or _put that thing back inside me_ or _let’s never leave this bed for the rest of our lives_ , but all he gets out is please.

Sam seems to interpret it as _please put your cock inside me_ , because behind him, Puck hears the unmistakable sound of a condom wrapper opening, and then, a minute later, a wet finger is pushing into him—or maybe two fingers. It’s thick, whatever it is, thicker than he’d expect a single finger to be. But then it’s sliding out until just the tip remains, holding him open.

A cock takes its place then, latex-covered tip rubbing where fingers had just been. The tip is strange, going into him. The condom rubs in all the wrong ways. And then he’s stretching, stretching around the cock-head. It hurts—fuck it hurts. Feels like, feels like the most intense _burningachingsorehurtsgodithurts_ pain he’s ever felt in his life, but when the cock goes just a bit deeper, it hits something inside him just right. Something that makes fireworks go off in the back of his head. “oh god,” he says, thrusting himself forward and back—back into it. “ oh GOD!” he says that time, the pleasure ratcheting up until he’s hard with it.

He and Sam move with each other then, almost racing for it. The feeling of being filled, being taken, overpowers Puck, overtakes his senses. One second he’s thrusting back—back—back onto Sam’s cock and the next he’s coming, hard thick spurts that shoot up, up higher than he ever remembers. He’s got come on his neck, leaking down over his nipple-ring.

Sam groans behind him, starts thrusting harder than ever. And suddenly Puck has this image in his mind, one he can’t seem to get rid of. He opens his mouth, says, “I want you to come on me.”

Sam whines high in his throat. Says, “Shit,” and pulls out so fast Puck’s afraid his might’ve torn something. And then Puck feels it—hot come striping his back, stickywet on his side slicking down to the sheet.

For a second Sam just lies there panting, and then he’s laughing—loud and long. “You almost missed out, man. When you said that, I almost lost it.” Sam drags a hand through the come on Puck’s back. “Jeez.”

And then Puck’s chuckling a little too.

+++

“Dude, I’m still totally bummed,” Finn’s saying the next day. He grabs the handles of his dirt bike, getting ready to take off. “We must have just missed her or something. I mean, the crowd was still there, and everything.”

“Yeah, that must’ve been it,” Puck says rolling his eyes. He looks over his dirt bike out of the corner of his eye. Looks like it’s not gonna be the best experience in the history of ever, but Puck can bite the bullet.

He’s just about to mount the thing when Sam walks up to it. Sam puts one of the hotel-room pillows on it, then winks at Puck and says, “Better use this, after throwing your back yesterday and all. Wouldn’t want to re-aggravate it.”

Puck smiles at him and slips onto the dirt bike. It still feels like hell, but he figures it woulda felt a helluva lot worse without it.

“Is that why you were acting so weird yesterday?” Finn asks. “Your back?”

“In a matter of speaking,” Puck says and sends a wicked grin to Sam. Sam grins back.

+++

“So, you have fun with the boys the last few days?” Lauren asks, taking a sip from her soda.

“You could say that,” Puck says, grinning. “You could definitely say that.”


End file.
